All I want to do tonight is digest the very disappointing Mexican food I mistakenly consumed earlier today. You drive 45 minutes, thinking of all your dining choices, and settle on one: Indulgent-but-worth-it Mexican, at a place you know that makes fine tacos and with a liquor license to serve the margarita you really crave. And then what happens? The place seems to have changed hands, or changed mindsets, or done something to make the beef chewy, the chips stale, and the whole experience so, so disappointing.
I’m going to correct myself with salads and vegetables tomorrow, delicious ones. Money spent eating bad food out always taste bitter.
So, the bloggage:
Chris Christie, it’s all over. What do you see when you look in the mirror?
So, found and arrested within hours. Another loser. Why am I not surprised? Testosterone poisoning is a real thing.
Let’s hope for forward progress tomorrow, eh?